


642 Things to Write About

by imsherlockd



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Not Really Character Death, One Shot, One Shot Collection, POV Alternating, POV Sherlock Holmes, Pining John Watson, Pining Sherlock, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:19:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4402334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsherlockd/pseuds/imsherlockd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a book that I bought called 642 Things to Write About. Each chapter will be a different prompt, and each prompt will revolve around the world of Sherlock, mainly focusing on the relationship between Sherlock and John. I hope to improve my writing skills by doing these ficlets, and any advice you would like to give can be sent to my tumblr at http://www.violindeductions.tumblr.com. I would also like to note that as I add more chapters, I will update the tags accordingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. What can happen in a second?

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, but this one is very short. Most of them will be much longer, I promise!

Anything can happen in a second. Something small, maybe meaningless, like a cough, a blink, a smile. And other things more serious and significant, like falling in love. Saving a life.

And another second perhaps your life has been torn apart. Just one second for the man you love to fall to his death from the top of St. Bart’s Hospital. You’re standing there, and it feels like time has slowed down and you’re thinking ‘ _No, this can’t be real, this isn’t happening,_ ’ and he hits the pavement. 

It only takes a second.


	2. 2. Describe five memories – events you remember well. Then take one of them further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ: This chapter contains smut. It's not too descriptive or detailed, but if you would like to skip this chapter, that's fine.

I remember the day we put Redbeard down. It was a cloudy and dismal day, and it was one of the very few times I’ve cried.

I remember when Lestrade found me in a drug den, high as a kite. And instead of arresting me, he helped me get rid of my habit in exchange for me helping New Scotland Yard with cases.

I remember the day I met John Watson, as well as the day I told him goodbye. I recall the words he said at my grave.

And despite the fact that John and I were incredibly drunk, I remember the stag night. I remember the way we looked at each other. John’s hand on my knee. I’ve imagined countless ways the night could have gone had we not been interrupted. Perhaps John’s hand would’ve moved further up my leg, and he would lean forward again and kiss me. Maybe he would’ve taken my hand, lead me towards the bedroom. Our clothing would be discarded onto the floor and we’d lie there on the bed, intimately exploring each other’s bodies. Our hard erections would rub together, breathy sighs and moans would escape our lips. ‘John. _John._ ’ I would say his name over and over with reverence and passion until we both found release. In our drunken, euphoric state, we’d fall asleep in each other’s arms mere moments later.

Afterwards I imagine John would regret it. He’d wake up the next morning hungover and guilty about what had occurred. He had cheated on Mary. We would never speak of our intimacy and the wedding would go on.

Perhaps it was for the best that none of my imaginations had happened. The thought of John being with Mary is already painful enough, and I suppose it would have been worse if things had taken a different path.

I frequently imagine what could have been. But John doesn’t love me the way I love him.


	3. 3. Describe the most recent moment when you couldn’t think of anything to say.

There we were, John and I, and I was about to leave on what was most certainly a suicide mission. And there was nothing to say.

I almost told John. That I loved him. ‘There’s something I should say. I’ve…meant to say always and then never have. Since it’s unlikely we’ll meet again, I might as well say it now.’ I took a deep breath, the words only a moment from being said, but I couldn’t do it. Not then, right before I left. I would never do that to John Watson. I cracked a joke instead, just to hear his laugh one last time. ‘Sherlock is actually a girl’s name.’ He did laugh, and then there wasn’t much left to be said. We shook hands and I walked away as a dull ache settled in my chest. Emotional pain. The reason I had divorced myself from feelings. I boarded the plane and tried to rebuild those walls in my mind that John had so easily torn down.

It wasn’t even five minutes later that Mycroft called and the aeroplane turned around.  _Moriarty_. Never had I been grateful to hear that name. Deep down I also felt panicked, but that wasn’t important at the moment. I would see John again. My blogger. My friend.

I had a second chance. I could tell him this time. Time seemed to pass by in a blur; John and I were back at Baker Street that evening, and an uncomfortable silence had fallen between us. I cleared my throat before standing from the sofa and walking toward where John sat in his chair. 

‘John, about earlier…on the tarmac. I wanted to tell you…’  _Deep breath_. ‘I wanted to tell you that I am in love with you. I think I have been since the beginning, and it’s because of you I live. It was the thought of keeping you safe that helped me survive those two years. The thought of you that kept me from dying at Mary’s hand. It’s always you, John. I…understand that you’re not gay, but I needed you to know. I love you.’

I looked at him and tried to read his emotions. Confusion. Surprise. But there was more than that. I couldn’t deduce further. ‘You…you love me.’ John said it like it was a statement, but also a question.

‘Yes, that’s what I just said.’ I was growing impatient and frustrated, even desperate. I wanted more of a response than that.

John nodded and set aside his laptop as he stood up. ‘And yes. I am not gay.’

‘As you have made a point to mention every time someone insinuates that we are a couple.’ I saw pain flash in his eyes and I promptly regretted saying it.

‘Because it was easier than admitting that I loved someone who didn’t feel things that way,’ John replied quietly. 

I didn’t know what to say. ‘Y-you mean…’

‘I love you too, you bloody git.’ John closed the gap between us with a large step, our faces suddenly centimeters apart. My heart hammered in my chest. _Was this really happening?_  ‘For being such a genius, you can be an idiot.’ I felt John’s breath on my face as the space between us finally closed and our lips came together in a passionate kiss. For so long I had dreamt of this. But this was better,  _so_  much better. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I felt lighter than air. There were no words to describe it.


End file.
